Mugged
by flabospiky.fabian
Summary: "Today, for the second time, I met the man I'm having an arranged marriage with in three months. I'd previously met him last night, when he was mugging me."
1. All Dolled Up

I peered at the mirror closely, examining my face.

Alice was perky. Everything _about_ her was perky. Even her nipples. Her figure was small, and her breasts were only a slight B cup, and her hips were really slender, too. But she somehow looked gorgeous in everything she wore. Like a doll.

Her hair was currently very short – a pixie cut in the extreme, cropped to the point that she looked like a stud – a result of a punk fashion phase she had recently gone through. While she had gone back to a more conservative dress attire – more pastels and shimmery tops with ruffles – her hair still gave her a spunky look, and mixed with the smoky-eye/punk eye make up she still favored, she wasn't easily rivaled in the fashion department, let alone in looks.

My face was just...plain. Not the bland kind – as Alice put it, I _did_ have a face graced for photography – but not the kind for sports illustrated or Vogue. I had a more eerie look. My skin was colorless.

The paper-white flesh goths strive for, with layers upon layers of white foundation and powder – I _naturally _had. My skin, without flush, without _color,_ resembled more of a porcelain glass than that of a human being.

Added with my mahogany brown hair, which I had grown out for four years and counting, I looked like a model for a Victorian Vampire magazine. Something from the 17th century, with all the funky short furniture and lace up corsets and thigh high boots.

Sometimes, I wondered if my mysteriously missing mother had actually been a secret vampire my father had impregnated. Alice had come up with the idea years ago, when the lack of photos or wedding pictures or memories of my mother had been brought up.

I simply stated it was hard for my father to remember someone so dear to him that died during child birth. _She _insisted that the lack of a body meant she was still alive somewhere. I brushed off the idea.

I had come to terms years ago that my mother's body had been stolen from the morgue. As much as I wished she was still alive and kicking somewhere, the idea of being related to a blood sucking demon was just a little creepy.

On top of which, the idea that your mother cared so little about you to go to the extent of faking her own death and vanishing off the face of the earth for twenty-three years of your life was more than a little hurtful.

Anyway.

Looking towards the hanger on the back of the door, I once again eyed the offensive article of clothing. He was going to think I was a whore, for sure.

And with the thought of _him,_ I once again frowned.

Alice said it brought out my color. (Or, in actuality, _gave_ me color.) It was deep blue, had a deep slit in the front, and Alice assured looked positively lovely with my figure.

"_God_ couldn't create a dress better suited for you," she gushed. "And for a first date? Oh my! You are going to absolutely _kill_ in this! And with these shoes? _So_ adorable, Bella!" She stopped her babble for a second, her eyes widening as she froze, mid-sentence, as if she just remembered something. "_OH! _And with your hair curled, kind of in a soft style, and your pearl earrings..."

But this wasn't a first date. This was me meeting the man my father had decided I should marry in order to expand the family business.

_Mr. Edward Anthony Masen Cullen. _

Even the name sounded rich and scary. Like someone who came from old money. Which was exactly the case here.

Mr. Edward Anthony Masen Cullen was the first born son of Carlisle Cullen, one of the most highly esteemed Doctors in all of Europe. And he wasn't the only one; every _Cullen_ so far dated back in history was recorded as a Doctor. Apparently the healing gene was passed down through the family like law has been passed down in mine.

My family has been in Law from as far back as we can date our history. The Cullens were just as old, it seemed, and had been in business together with my family since the beginning.

Doctor's needing lawyers and all that.

My phone buzzing interrupts me out of my reverie.

It's a text from Alice. A picture of her pouty lips is the first thing I see before I scroll down to see the message.

_Where are the pictures? I need to see your outfit before you go! And don't you dare forget to touch up on your hair! I'm already regretting allowing you to have it done before you got dressed! You're going to mess it all up when you slide it all on. OH! And I almost forgot; did you decide upon your __panties? __ I still think you should go black. __Sexy is what sexy does. _

_- A_

I put down the phone as I glance back the mirror. The baby blue lingerie set isn't bad – it's more innocent, and with the dress, I feel that's what I need. Sexy upon Sexy is whore-combo, and I'm already risking Whore with how deep the slit in the dress is.

_I'm wearing the baby blue, Ali. And I still have two hours before I even need to be there. Relax. I'll send you pictures in a few._

_- Bells_

I carefully pull the dress off the hanger and remove the price tag. It takes a few minutes for me to figure out exactly how to put it on, but I manage to get it where the front is actually covering my breasts instead of only my stomach.

The only problem is that my bra is showing right in the middle of the dress. And I immediately want to swear at Alice for convincing me to buy this thing.

_Ali, my bra is showing so badly I look like a six year old playing dress up. He's going to look at me and feel like a pedophile._

_- Bells_

I don't even have to wait five seconds for a response.

_Bella! you're not **supposed **to wear a bra! Take it off, now! And NO buts, or I'm coming over!_

_- A_

I don't believe this. I want to snap at her for ever convincing me to buy this damned thing to begin with, but one look at the clock and I realize I've actually fallen behind schedule.

I reluctantly strip off the bra, and stare at it forlornly.

I should have expected this. She did say _panties, _after all. No mention of bra anywhere. Which meant she wanted to prepare me for a lot more than just fondling.

I look at the mirror, and I don't ever want to leave the bathroom.

He is _definitely_ going to think I'm a whore now.

Maybe if I could just _sneak_ the bra back on...

_And don't you dare think about wearing the bra anyway! I'll know if you do. And don't worry; as long as you don't bend over too far, you'll be fine. I love you. Now stop hating yourself and fix your hair! I'm not kidding when I say I'll come over!_

_- A_

For a moment, I'm convinced she's hiding in the bathroom closet, from how creepily timed the message was. But I know from experience she isn't, but just to be safe, I check anyway.

Nope.

Empty.

Turning back towards the mirror, I pick up the steaming curling iron and run it gently through bottom ends of my hair. The hair dresser did an amazing job, and the amount of bounce my curls have is incredibly, but I know from personal experience it will fall out unless I touch up the ends. Carefully, in the same way Alice showed me, I spray the ends and pin them up by my ears.

Meanwhile, while the curls dry, I lightly dust my cheeks with a bit of blush and my eye lids with light gray eye shadow. I fix my eyeliner before setting it with Spritz, and then unpin my curls. They lightly fall down past my shoulders, the curls unrolling and bouncing gently down by my waist. I flutter my eye lashes, and for a moment, I'm taken back by how pretty the girl in the mirror looks.

But a second later, I'm back seeing myself the way I've always seen myself – plain and boring – and I remind myself that's probably how _he_ is going to see me, as well.

I pick up my purse from the counter, which contains my cell phone and my lip gloss, and slip on my flats. As I go down the stairs, I put my earrings in my ears and fasten the pearl necklace around my neck. I'm dreading this more than Alice with eyebrow plucking tweezers.

My father is sitting on the love seat, reading the newspaper, various papers spread out in front of him on the coffee table. He looks up at me, unblinkingly.

"You ready?"

As usually, he's stoic as ever.

"Mhmm," I say, trying to sound as nonchalant as he somehow always manages to. He puts his paper down, and stands up. We file out the house, him locking it behind us as he pages the driver to come pick us up.

Within a few moments, George is at our door step, taking my hand as I walk down the stairs. I slide gently into the backseat as my dad slides in from the door across from me.

Within minutes, we're driving down the cobblestone road and headed towards the house where my intended is currently staying.

Oh fucking joy.

I can't wait.

* * *

Yeah. Sorry for the long intro. I needed the set up.

Any questions?

Fire away.

The next chapter should be up either in a couple hours or sometime tomorrow. It's going to be good. I'm anticipating lots of drama. : D

All reviewers will receive a short preview of the next chapter.

**Note:** this chapter is unedited. I wanted to get it up as soon as possible for you guys. I'll go back in later and re-edit.

**edit:/ **I forgot to post a link to the dress, for those of you who may have been interested in seeing it.


	2. Meeting

Someone asked if this story was inspired by a FML. As a matter of fact, yes. Great to know fellow FML fans are reading this story. : D

I am currently writing this on the floor in front of a classroom at College, and the looks I'm getting are rather amusing. But that might be more because today I decided to spike my hair in a mohawk and dress up like an 80s rocker.

* * *

While my dad was very close to the Cullen's, I wasn't. Being an only child, my father a stoic, and my mother dead, I was more of an introvert than a social butterfly. My father, not being that much of a social butterfly himself (unless it was for business purposes) person, didn't feel the need to force me to be one. I spent most of my childhood alone, and while he went out and spent time at parties and Gala's and expensive, fancy, one-a-year dinners, I stayed home.

Of course, that didn't stop him from insisting upon my need to form tight-knitted relations with the people who could be considered my best future assets. I really needed to be able to like the Cullens and for them to like me, since they would most likely be in business with my family until the day Jesus popped back down on earth. My father never forgot to remind me that my self-imposed social isolation would eventually cost me later.

But he believed it was better for me to learn on my own, and that forcing me to go do shit wouldn't make me make a good impression.

But, to be honest, it wasn't just a business relationship I wasn't interested in; I had no desire for any people, let alone _these_ people. I would always attach a sense of wariness when dealing with them due to the business aspect that would always be associated with the relationship. In the end, Alice was enough for me; I didn't _need _anybody else.

Also, the idea of forging friendships just for convenience and/or personal gain seemed too petty to be even considered.

That's mostly the reason why I stayed away, and as a result, knew shit about these people, let alone the guy I was supposedly going to be marrying.

Part of me heavily regretted not having gotten to know them, with my present situation being _marrying _one of them.

My father had close relationships with the Cullen's, and while Swans were considered to have "connections", I didn't have them.

I mean, of course I had connections to the extent of my last name – but the personal connections that are earned from years of friendship were nonexistent. I had met the Cullen's enough times to count on one hand, and while I had always been cordial, I wasn't well known to them or vice versa. I referred to them as the "Cullen's" while my dad referred to them by their first names.

The last time I saw Doctor Carlisle and his wife, Esme, was two years ago in the fall. We had been hosting a Christmas party at my Father's house. I had also, I believe, been introduced to Jasper, one of Doctor Carlisle's children. The other two sons, however - Emmet and the slightly-scandalized older step-son, _Edward __- _were foreign to me. (Edward was the result of Esme's prior marriage.)

I looked at them and saw rich strangers. They looked at me and probably just saw "Charlie's brat". Either that or maybe now "The dumb bitch who is marrying our oldest son."

It wasn't that I was selfish, exactly. It wasn't that I hadn't want to meet them or spend time with them. I didn't have a dislike for them or anything.

It's just...I had been bullied in kindergarten, and it wasn't until I was enrolled in a Private School, nine years later, that I actually made my first friend.

I just hadn't ever really had the desire to make friends or create connections with people.

Hell, I wouldn't even have Alice if it weren't for her...insistent behavior.

Back in Private School, or _Blackwell, _as it was called, Alice had been shunned by most the others girls, most likely due to both her beauty and her odd personality.

And being an outcast myself, _birds of a feather flocked together. _

She found me hanging out in the library during lunch period one day, and recognized the shirt I was wearing – some designer she adored. Alice _loved fashion_ – and Alice, being Alice, blurted out, right there in the middle of the quiet library,_ "__Oh __my god, I love your shirt! But why on earth on you wearing it with those shoes? Those two totally clash in color! Hey, what are you reading?"_

Somehow, after being thrown out of the library due to her incessant blabbering, we started bumping into one another on a regular basis around school – and I soon realized they weren't so much incidental as they were planned encounters on her part.

Long story short, she persisted, I resisted, and eventually, as usual, she won.

And she has been my best friend, ever since.

I didn't need anyone else.

With my dad being gone so much, and his lifestyle being so...cold, I didn't have much of a desire to follow in his foot steps. I was more interested in being a Writer than anything. My dream was to write novels – not study Law, as my father believed.

I suppose after coming to the realization I had a desire for life that was different from that of my father's, which meant it would never be approved – we were a _law family, after all, _we didn't do anything else – I hid myself even more than I already was.

I felt indebted to my Dad. I ultimately felt like the reason his wife was dead, and sometimes I wondered if I was the reason he was so cold now – maybe loving me hurt too much, so he did everything to take care of me but at a distance.

As a result, we were never close. And knowing he would never approve of my dreams, I never told him. Instead, I went to off to school under the pretense of studying Law, while in actuality getting a degree in English Literature.

I had tried for law, truly, I had, but after the first two weeks, it became rather apparent that even if I did want to be a Lawyer, it wasn't in my blood the way that it was in my father's. I was shit at it, to be frank.

With that, I dropped out, and wound up confiding in Alice part of why I felt so guilty about failing – she was currently the only person who knew what I truly wanted in life. She encouraged me to pursue a degree in English literature, and not wanting to come home and face my father's disappointment, I did just that.

He attended my graduation ceremony, even going so far as to give a speech in the middle of it – despite the confused looks of all the parent's as he discussed firms and all the places he saw their children heading, since they had to be great to graduate with such great GPAs and in competition with me for Valedictorian. He had no idea what I had done. Only Alice knew.

I was frightened at the proposition of him finding out.

Shortly after the graduation, he was trying to get me to apply to firm after firm – which I, of course, declined – I had no degree, after all.

But soon he was submitting applications for me, and I would receive letters and phone calls to which I had to explain I had no actual degree in the area, and that my "demented grandfather kept applying me, and that I was so sorry for the inconvenience".

And of course, my father, being my father, always inquired as to how the job interviews went – to which I said badly.

After the first one or two, he became sure the companies were rejecting me based on my sex. Then my Caucasian heritage. And eventually, he decided it was just _me._

And that's where the idea of me marrying Edward came about.

I felt so bad about the college degree, about lying in the first place, that I agreed to go along with it.

I figured if I couldn't help the family business with my "law degree" maybe I could help through association of marriage.

It wasn't until recently that I began to truly realize the implications of what I was agreeing to do.

_I was in an arranged marriage. I had never even met the guy. _

I had had plenty of opportunities, but I had always shielded myself away from such frivolous public interactions – and made an effort to extract myself from interactions with my father. Maybe out of guilt. But even growing up, I felt guilty as to what had happened with my mother.

And my guilt was now leading me into marriage. Holy shit.

It wasn't that I was pining myself away for someone, or getting cold feet – it was the fact that, while I hadn't ever been the most romantically driven person, I was still losing a lot.

It just took me until after I was getting married to realize that.

_You're never going to get a first date. You're never going to feel the butterflies of imagining a proposal, or asking the first time to cuddle, or the fear of a guy not liking you back. Of phone call tag. Of falling in love, of floating with joy when looking forward to seeing him. You're never going to get to have the pain of a break up, of waiting by the phone and hoping he'll call, or the let down of him not calling. _

_You're never going to experience any of those things. _

_You're just going to get married. _

_No unique, special story to tell yours kids about How you Met the Man of your Dreams, let alone the ability to give them boyfriend/girlfriend advice. I'm never going to get the chance to work to earn a smile, to work/strive for forgiveness, to experience heart break tears or frustration or jealousy of seeing my guy with another girl. _

The fact was, so many experiences I was going to miss out on. And that felt like I was being stolen from.

But then again, my father had paid for my "law degree" - something he was happy to do. I had the opportunity for scholarships, but he insisted this was his gift to me, and that I wasn't some "shit poor" child. I had the brains, but he had the cash. In the end, he paid. The only problem was, I didn't get a law degree. And I still have thousands of dollars left over from the tuition money he booted, with no way to return it without arousing questions I didn't feel I could answer at this point in time.

As a result, I felt like the least I could do was go through this for him. And decides, there still was no absolute guarantee I was going to get married anyway. The guy had to like me. If I scared him off like I tended to scare off most guys, I would still be free to choose who I wanted.

But I felt like not having him like me was furthering the failure my father already thought I was, making me even more of a disappointment. So I was determined to make a good impression. And maybe, if things worked out just right, my father would still be able to find some sort of area to be proud of me in. Maybe the fact I helped keep the two family business' tied would help him be able to find some light to approve me in.

I look over at my father sitting across from me. His eyes are intently trailed on his black berry – no doubt looking up some important piece of information for his most recent legal case. Probably over some murder. Those always seem to get him the most engrossed.

This man had invested everything he had into me – despite the fact I was the reason his wife was dead (or a Vampire, as Alice fervently believed).

I had already blown the family law career tradition. I wasn't about to blow my father's last attempt at using me.

Pulling into the drive way was more calming than I thought it would be. I was so nervous these people wouldn't like me, but being faced with house, I decided that what I was facing wasn't that bad. In the end, as long as I didn't piss on their garden plant's, it was just a dinner social. It's not like someone can develop an immediate dislike for you just by you eating dinner. Unless you pig out or something.

_Bella! Where are my pictures!? Don't you DARE tell me you forgot!_

_- A_

Well, shit.

Knowing Alice, she'd drive over here just to see my Skimpy get up. Which reminds me, what if they think I'm a whore? I don't think I've ever worn anything _this_ revealing at any of the occasions that I've met the Cullens.

There goes my calm nerves.

_I didn't forget. I wanted to pose in front of a sexy tree._

_- Bella_

Exiting the car, I quickly walked over to the shrubbery next to the door bell.

Father was instructing George where to park. I barely glanced at the massive house, with its gorgeous set up, before I leaned against the shrubbery and held up my camera to take a quick picture.

Of course, right when I was about to click the snap button, the front door opened causing me to jump.

I dropped my phone and, instinctively, leaned over to pick it up, causing my back to knock the shrubbery over.

The sound of shattering pottery caused me to jolt back up, my breasts slipping out the front of my dress from the movement.

I was now standing face-to-face with my intended. I was half naked, and I recognized him.

* * *

Sorry about this. Looked like the drama took place more towards the end. Fear now, the next chapter is full-launch into drama.

Any questions?

Fire away.

Next chapter will be up tomorrow. Maybe tonight, if I have time!


	3. Yesterday's Shopping Spree, Part 1

"Bella!"

I looked up. Alice was excitedly bouncing in front of me.

The sounds of the food court in the local shopping mall were easily drowned out by her squealing. She was clapping her hands, and was grinning so widely I thought she'd explode from all the excitement she contained.

"You won't _believe_ this," she gushed, clasping her hands in front of her. "There is this _huge_ sale occurring right now in _G__u__ild of the Lily. _They've brought in an entire new selection of dresses, and are now weeding out the old ones. We _have_ to go. This is the _absolute perfect opportunity _for you to pick one out for your date tomorrow night! We need something _sexy, _something new, something-"

I cut her off before the lack of oxygen kills her.

"OK, Alice. Let's go."

She freezes for a second, and stares at me wide eyed.

I realize she's probably in shock I gave in so quickly. Usually, I throw a fit about dress shops. I was more a jeans, tee, and a hoodie kind of girl. Fancy wear? Not really my thing.

But in this case, I needed to look my best. And I already knew from the past week's entire wardrobe digging I had nothing worth wearing for tomorrow. And with the cash I had...

I wince, remembering why I had it.

"I just need to get a new dress," I explain. "I already know I have nothing worth wearing for tomorrow. You don't need to convince me."

Alice frowns, giving me a look. "If this was under different circumstances," she says, "I'd say you need to get engaged more often." She grins at me, before wrapping her arm around me. "Come on; let's go."

Weeding through the mall is easy when you're with Alice. People see her and go in the other direction. Those fights on TVs you see about girl's in shopping malls beating the shit out of each other over a dress? Alice was one of those girls. She once got thrown out of Macy's for biting a girl because she wouldn't let go of the shirt Alice swears she saw first. She radiates a vicious shopping temperament.

Either that or her non-stop bouncing and loud voice convinces people she's on speed or something.

I follow behind more slowly, her bouncing backwards as she animatedly talks about the rose shoes she found with sage lining. She nearly runs over an old man.

"Alice," I snap, grabbing her arm. "Calm down before you get us kicked out."

She glowers. "I am _not_ going to get us kicked out! They should be _happy _I'm here, with all the business I'm providing!" She sniffs indignantly, but does slow her pace.

Looking back up at me, she adds, "And if you'd walk faster, we'd already be there by now. It's because of you I have all this energy pent up."

I want to roll my eyes – she's already been through at least six stores; the fact she's blaming me for her lack of exercise is ridiculous. I quit shopping to hang at the food court _because _I was slowing her down. It's no wonder we've been stopped for drug checks before. Random sample my ass.

Alice's loud cry draws the attention of more than just a few bystanders.

"Oh my god! There it is!" Her nails are suddenly inside my wrist ripping my guts out. I'm dragged to the entrance, swearing the entire way.

"Alice! Alice! _Ow! _Alice, for _fuck's_ sake, slow the shit down! Alice! Alice_-oh." _

Alice skips right over the threshold of the store entrance, but my foot gets caught at the same moment someone bumps into me from behind. I wind up careening and slamming face first into the back of the person in front of me, my bag flying from my arm and hitting the person on my left. My sudden stop sends the person behind me tripping as well, which leads to all my purse contents spilled all over the ground and pile of men on top of me.

I don't know how this shit happens.

I'm being crushed, and from the agonizing cry of pain of the guy crushing me, I'm sure he's being crushed, as well. Just by someone else.

"My balls," He chokes. "Jesus Christ, _my balls." _

There's horrible shuffling, and the back of my neck is slammed down into the carpet. I get a mouthful of fluffy green stringy stuff, while a hand crunches my foot.

"I'm lose!" A guy cries in triumph, the same exact moment I say "Fuck". But due to the carpet, all you hear is, "Fmpfffhhh!" and horrible gagging sounds as one of the strings gets caught on my tongue.

"Oh my God!" It's Alice. "Oh my God, you _killed _her!_" _

The weight pinning me is suddenly off, and I'm so light headed that, for a second, I don't notice the Siren blaring in my ear.

I lift my head up to see Alice's face practically glued to my ear, her mouth opened as she screams inside it.

I practically leap from the ground, my ears literally _hurting. _"What the fuck, Alice?!" 

Her eyes light up, and I swear to fucking God, there are _tears_ in them.

"Oh my God, Bella," she cries, before rushing up and grabbing me in a hug. "I thought you were dead! I came back out to see what was taking you so long, and you were just there on the floor, and all these men were on top of you, and this one guy was groping himself, and you weren't moving at all, and I saw him _step_ on you and you still didn't make any noise! Oh my God, I thought you were _dead." _

In all honesty, her hug is cutting off air flow in my chest. My ribs are being smashed together and I think for a second to pat her on the back but realize I can't quite remember how to move my hand.

"I think you need to let go of her," a voice to my left says. It's musical, and sounds slightly concerned.

Alice's hugging stops for a second, and I'm so dizzy I stumble.

Someone catches me.

"Hey." I open my eyes to look inside the most vibrant, cat-like green eyes I have ever seen in my life. The intelligence in them is astounding. For a second, I'm swimming, and all I see are floating orbs that remind me of green glow- in-the-dark-lime jello.

This is going to sound absolutely ridiculous, but it looks like an angel. Fanned across the green eyes is reddish messy hair, that is almost bronze gold in color. His skin is lightly dusted with what looks to be faint freckles, and his lips are curved up in a smile, the corner of white teeth showing. He is positively the most gorgeous man I have ever seen. His lips are moving, and I realize he's speaking. It takes me a second to zone in on his words.

"I think she needs to lie down, she's entirely unresponsive. She may be going into shock; her pupils are dilated."

I regain control of my mouth.

"I'm fine," I manage to stammer. I shift, and I'm adjusted and I feel the ground under my feet. Standing up, hesitantly, the world stills and I reluctantly step back from the guy holding me.

He is taller than me, and wearing a plan white t-shirt with a cross necklace. A blue hoodie is unzipped and he's looking straight into my eyes. He is absolutely the most sexy guy I have ever met in my life.

His eyebrows furrow for a moment. I give a slight smile. "I'm fine," I manage again, my voice being steady. "Just...got a bit of a head ache, that's all."

He looks at me intently, as it studying, and opens his mouth as if to say something – before shutting it again. His jaw hardens. His eyes flicker to something on the floor.

"Your purse," he says. It takes me a moment to realize what he's saying. My purse is being held by Alice (figures she'd save the Prada first) but my contents are all over the ground. I immediately crouch to start gathering them.

He crouches down as well.

"Here, let me help."

I crouch, and quickly gather my tissues and lip gloss. My cell phone is handed to me by him, as well the two books I had in my bag from the book store. I go to pick up the small pouch I have that contains my money, when the movement causes the wads to slip out. I freeze for a second, and I swear the boy next to me inhales sharper.

I grab the wad quickly, but a few stray bills slip out. I realize the cause for the disarray when I see the clip lying a few inches away. The boy beside me grabs the money clip, and very suddenly, snatches the bills off the ground. For a second – for a split second – I think he's going to run. I feel pure panic flush through me – why did I ever _think_ to bring all that cash with me? Oh, that's right; Alice. She convinced me to bring it all with me to deposit in the bank, but only _after_ we were done with our shopping spree.

But just as soon as he snatched it up, he jams it in my palm and gets up. I'm about to say something to him when he runs. He's around the corner and gone before I even get a word out. I'm in such shock for a moment, I can't think of a single word to say.

Then, of course, there's Alice.

"That was weird," she announces, looking around for any sign of the other guys who were involved in the tumble. They had all bolted when the other guy did, apparently. I just hadn't noticed due to the fact all my attention was trained on Sexy Red Haired Guy.

Alice suspiciously eyes the corner.

"I think he was gay."


End file.
